Solid neighborhood Chinese — eggplant with garlic sauce, sour and spicy fern-root noodles, Chung King beef with soft tofu, and spicy chicken with handmade noodles — a short walk south from Columbia. The chef, we were told, is not from Chung King, or even Chongqing, but Chengdu.

After catching the eye of my companion at the tiny windowside counter, I was glad I'd ordered the stewed beef and not the chicken. Courtesy of the Dominican owner, I also sampled the soup of the day: mondongo, featuring exceptionally tender tripe.

Roast pork is the common bond: lo mein and plantain, from a Chinese-Latin lunch plate. Sitting at the counter up front, rather than in the dining room in back, I listened as English- and Spanish-speaking tradespeople placed and collected takeout orders. A lone Cantonese-speaking customer stopped by only for a hot drink; leaning in at my left, he chatted with the counterman over the hiss of frothing milk.

This name of this self-described "modern American" restaurant has a Cuban heritage. Victor del Corral, who was born in Guanabacoa, east of Havana, in 1922 and emigrated to the United States with his family in 1957, opened Victor's Cafe on the Upper West Side of Manhattan 1963. In 1971 he commissioned the Cuban-born artist Arturo Martín Garcia to create an artwork that would commemorate del Corral's rural upbringing.

Against a field of sugarcane, Martín Garcia sculpted a bas-relief that wraps around the side-street entrance to the restaurant. The south face of the bas-relief depicts a yoked team of oxen pulling a cartful of cut sugarcane; the east face depicts a guajiro, or agricultural worker.

In 1980, Victor del Corral transplanted his namesake restaurant to West 52nd St., where it continues to this day, but the bas-relief, which Martín Garcia had sculpted from plaster mixed with marble dust, was too fragile to be moved. Rooted to this Columbus Ave. corner, the bas-relief was at some point after its installation colored in earthtones; these had deteriorated considerably at the time of preservation hearings in 2012. Ultimately the bas-relief was restored to the original whitewashed coloration shown here.

"Focaccia-style" is the house designation for the square-lipped, firm-crusted pizza shown here. Unlike focaccia, however, it is baked not on the oven floor but in a pan, its surface is allowed to bubble freely, and the toppings — such as potato, pepperoni, or sausage and mushrooms — are applied liberally, often more than my photos reveal. As in the pies at Emmy Squared, the crust is crisp and just a tad oily; this is a major part of its appeal.

Mama's Too, which also prepares round pies with a rather puffy cornicione, offers counter seating and takeout; the narrow dining area is enclosed by a glass-fronted garage door that can be rolled up in good weather. An avenue block to the east, its older sibling Mama's Pizza serves classic New York slices in a classic corner pizzeria setting.

Visitor from the East: Grain House, just opened in Manhattan (and shown below), shares its name and pedigree with a celebrated Sichuan restaurant in far eastern Queens. Pending a final menu for this new outpost, have a look at hot and spicy clams, Chinese chestnuts with spare ribs, Yibin burning noodles, and bacon with garlic sprouts at the flagship location (since closed), in Little Neck. For more, see the EIT page on Facebook.